Isolation
by Marie Allen
Summary: AU. Since the day his parents were murdered, Donovan, known as Rock, set out to find the murderer. He creates a group of mercenaries that he will one day use to destroy Lord Bravico. Will he be defeated? Or will the anger within destroy him?
1. Beginnings

Author's Notes: This is an AU set in the long ago past where myths of dragons and monsters living in the sea were popular. It might sound confusing at the moment, as this is only the first chapter. I was in my bed last night, set for bed, when all of a sudden this idea just popped out at me. ^_^;; But as I started writing it at one o'clock in the morning, I kind of felt weird writing the actual names as my characters, because those characters are really not ::insert name here::. Of course there's exceptions, such as "Rock" or "Hunter" because, truthfully, I don't think people go around naming their children "Rock" and I haven't heard of "Hunter" lately, but no offense to those called that! I know of someone named Hunter, and I definitely don't have hard feelings towards him so... ^_^ Below are the 'translation' of names so to speak. I tried to find/make up names that were related some way to the actual guy/girl, so I hope that it makes sense. Thanks! ^_^  
  
  
  
Lord Rikin: Rikishi  
  
Lord Bravico: Jericho  
  
Donovan: Rock  
  
Mikhail: Mick Foley  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isolation - Part One  
  
Beginnings  
  
By: Marie Allen  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
The distant drops of water echoed throughout the large, empty room. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that it came from everywhere except for the small crack in the ceiling. Outside an enormous rainstorm was taking place. Lightning cracked the sky as thunder shook the heavens. Parents cuddled close to their frightened children and lovers embraced each other tightly beneath warm quilts.  
  
But he didn't know that. All he knew was darkness. Darkness was what he woke to, and darkness was what he slept with. It was cold and comfortless, leaving him alone for the time being. At first he had tried to welcome the darkness, holding it close to him like he would any other close friend, but that hadn't worked. Instead he had found misery, depression, and loneliness. Which was all he had now.  
  
He had tried to fight in the beginning. He had fought in the beginning because he never gave up. He had a strong mind and was always determined to do what was on his mind. He was taught to do what he knew what was right for not only himself, but for others. But it was that teaching that had gotten him where he was now. Alone. If he had just gone along with everyone else, he wouldn't have had to endear the pain he had gone through, and was still going through.  
  
He shook his head. No. He would not regret anything he did, because deep down he knew that at least one person was alive. And that person would one day come for him. He didn't know when or how, but that person would save him from the agony he faced every day and night.  
  
What was day? What was night? What was time? Time ceased to exist in this black hell-hole. He lived to breath and nothing more. He did not know what day this was, or even the month. He had tried keeping marks on the wall by counting the times he saw the light through the crack of the wall near the continuous drips. Drip, drip, drip... Like the blackness, the water was always there. That alone was the worse torture he had ever faced. Just that simple drop enhanced his thirst, making his patched tongue turn into a small, shriveled stick. Drip, drip, drip... It continued to echo through his mind, forcing him to think of the large masses of water that he would never see again.  
  
But that wasn't right. He would see them again because his savor was still out there. He didn't remember who that person was, or what they even looked like, but he knew they were out there. He knew that they were just outside that huge wooden door, with their ax held high, ready to tear apart one of the barriers to the sunlight.  
  
He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the sunshine on his flesh, basking in its warmth. He had forgotten what warmth felt like. He just knew numb, damp, coldness. Wait. That wasn't right. No, warmth was the tip of a long iron poker that had just came from the hearth and that glowed an evil, bright red. It reminded him of a witch's cat with its one, red eye. It would awake with a hiss from its bed and slowly stalk towards him without a blink before stopping directly towards his face. He had been locked in a cage that hung from the ceiling, trapping him from all movement. When the eye finally approached him, he would try to stare it down, but it was all for nothing. He would lose in the end by the monster jumping at him, clawing open his skin as it sank its razors into his body, tearing him up.  
  
The first time he had fainted from the pain. He had screamed until his throat was dry and hoarse, and the only one that could hear him were the creatures that lived in his hair. Another form of torture, he was unable to lift up his hand to his head to flick out the bugs. Whenever they bit, he could only close his eyes and think of something else. Not that it mattered anymore. His right arm was completely useless. The Cat had scratched him deeply one time. It had left a deep gash to his bone which refused to heal correctly. One night, or day, while he slept, some type of bug attracted to blood had crawled into his wound and nested itself there. He didn't know of any such things that did that, but this one had. For the long aching hours he was awake, he nested these insects until they finally hatched. They quickly drank up as much blood as they dared before they gnawed through his now healed skin. Now he could barely move his elbow, and couldn't even move his fingers. All because of a small bug.  
  
He opened his eyes as he searched the room, looking for something, anything. He wondered why he was here and how he had gotten into this situation. And why was he still alive? Was it because they gave him just enough food and water to keep his frail heart moving? He didn't know, nor did he care. He didn't care about anything anymore.  
  
When had he stopped caring? He leaned back against the bars of his cage and desperately tried to search his memory, trying to find any piece of evidence on his being here.  
  
***  
  
Laughter rung through the room. Glasses clanked together in a toast, spilling over the sides. Conversations covered a wide area from the latest masterpiece concerto to the latest flame. Tonight was a celebration of victory. The Kinship of Wolves had joined with the Lord Rikin against his greatest rival, Bravico. The two lands had been rivals for generations, but it was only now that Bravico had turned the hatred into a fierce war.  
  
Rikin was a large, lazy man who had not been prepared for such a war. Bravico was a smart man who knew his enemy's weaknesses. Thinking that he had the upper hand, he had sent a month's notice to Rikin that he was going to war with him. Terrified, Rikin had sent pleading letters to his comrades, but none had replied. Fearing the worse, he was prepared to fall to Bravico's army. That was, until two weeks before the battled date.  
  
  
  
Donovan was a proud man and a fierce warrior. He was respected by all who worked with him because of his dedication and greatness. He was a large man compared to the smaller built ones of his group. He towered over everyone he came to meet which earned him many nicknames. The one that stayed the longest was Rock. As a child, he had made a pledge that he would start a band of mercenaries and destroy the man who had killed his father with his sword before raping and killing his mother before his young eyes. Donovan was quiet in the sense that he was always thinking of where his mercenaries would strike next.  
  
Known for their power that would bring horror to every town they struck, the bandits were labeled as "The Kinship of Wolves." Each member was loyal to the next, but none were more so then their leader, Donovan. For years they traveled together, growing each day with both experienced murders to meek boys. They always hit at night, attacking when all were at their weakest states of sleep. And year after year, each battle would bring disappointment to the leader, for he was always brought up with the same information of the man who killed his parents. That was, until two weeks before two hatreds would be forced to face one another.  
  
"Master Rock! Master Rock!" A small boy at the age of ten with short brown hair ran as fast as he could up a green hill. It was just the beginning of spring and flowers were blooming brightly under the warm sun. Donovan turned towards the boy known as Taima and smiled. He had only been here for a little over a year, yet Rock had seen a great improvement since his first time. He could wield a sword now, instead of a broken branch. In a couple of years he would be almost as great as he himself.  
  
"Mast Rock!" he panted. He stopped when he reached him, leaning over his knees and trying to get his breath back. The boy had a grin upon his face, lighting his features to his childish innocence. In his hand he clutched a letter lightly. He feared that if he should let it go, it would disappear. He continued to grin as he handed it to the man he deeply admired. This man had taken him in off of the streets during the greatest storm of the year. He hadn't eaten in weeks and was weak. Had Rock not been restless that night, he would have surely been dead the next morning.  
  
"What's this?" questioned Rock as he opened the letter. He did not recognize the seal on it, nor did he care. As he scanned the words, Taima answered him.  
  
"It's from Mikhail, my lord. He has sent word on Bravico and his whereabouts! What does it say? The messenger wouldn't tell me anything!" He grabbed onto his arm and tried to pull it down so he could also read it. As they read it silently together, each grew a sense of excitement. Taima because his hero was finally knew where his archenemy was located which would lead to his destruction, and Rock because he would finally be able to kill the man who had destroyed his family.  
  
"Quick," he told Taima, still looking at the letter, "tell the boys to pack up. We'll be moving out before dusk." Taima raced off to relay the message, leaving Rock alone. He reread the letter at least a dozen times before folding it back up. He stared at the seal. A memory flash lit through his mind like a lightning bolt. He had seen that brand before on a fire night full of hatred and fear and blood. It had been on a dagger he had seen right before it had plunged into the heart of his father. It was the seal of Bravico, just like Mikhail had said. He was a spy inside his castle now, and he would use this to his advantage. His eyes glowing with a freshly lit fire, he grinned down at the camp below. Tonight he would leave for his new ally's castle and together they would defeat the one man that they both hated. And then he would have his revenge.  
  
***  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Like I said before, this might seem a little confusing, but I think things should start making sense in later chapters. ^_^;; I hope. Anyway, thanks for reading this far! I love CONSTRUCTIVE criticism because it lets me know what's wrong, stupid, or whatever so I can fix it. That goes for the names too... Is it too confusing? OK? ^_^ Thank you!  
  
~ Marie 


	2. The Start Of a Long Journey

Lord Rikin: Rikishi  
  
Lord Bravico: Jericho  
  
Donovan: Rock  
  
Mikhail: Mick Foley  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isolation - Part 2  
  
The Start Of a Long Journey  
  
By: Marie Allen  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
He opened his eyes with a sigh. There was nothing that he could remember outside of the darkness. It hurt him, not knowing his past. Surely he was someone with a name and life. Did he have a wife and children? What were his parents' names? How many brothers and sisters did he have? Was his house grand and magnificent, or was it small and shabby? Did he even have a house and family?  
  
Frustration took a hold on him then. Thinking as if it would help him remember anything, he repeatedly began to slam the back of his head against the bars. The combination of metal against bone rang out through the room. Pain would have seared through him, but he was immune to pain. After all, every day for, well, a long time, he had faced the Cat and its friends of suffering. What's the difference between them and a feel blows to the back of his head?  
  
The sole door of the room was forced open with a loud clank. Two large men identical in every way rushed inside. They unlocked the door to his cage and pulled him out. He yelled out in protest, which made one of the men to smack him. He quickly realized he was yelling and locked his jaw, indicating that he wouldn't do it again. Chains were clamped onto his wrists, or what was left of his wrists. His right arm screamed in pain, but he gritted his teeth together to keep from voicing it.  
  
After the men had left, he relaxed his frail body. He let it hang there from the ceiling, wishing the chains were longer. They were short enough that his knees were just above the ground, barely centimeters away. If he wasn't so weak, he would have stood up. Alas, he could barely lift up his head after the beating he had given himself.  
  
This wasn't the first time he had done something that made them think that he was trying to kill himself. Hell, for the longest time he had gone at all accounts in trying to take his life. But they had stopped him and healed him back to health. Why that was, he never knew. They would heal him, only to destroy him, his life, and his spirit. It didn't bother him anymore, though, because he didn't know what life they had destroyed. He didn't even remember his own name...  
  
***  
  
Taima urged his horse forward. He still wore the grin from earlier that day which brought smiles to the other, older men. Taima was the youngest machinery there, and definitely the second most loved. His innocence was refreshing to most of his fellow members. But just like some liked him for his innocence, others hated him for it. "A battle field is no place for a child," they would sneer. But they would always back down whenever Rock approached and asked what the matter was. His powerful voice would always have a gentle note to it, no matter how gruff he seemed. To those who did not know him, it would seem that such a giant would not hold a soft side for a worthless kid. It was an observation not gone unnoticed by his enemies.  
  
Tonight he did not wear a smile. Instead, a thin, determined line was placed on a drawn face. His features were tight and nothing came out of place as he rode. He had only one thing on his mind and that was to convince Lord Rikin to let his skilled fighters join his army.  
  
Taima reached Rock after pushing his way through the other men. At the sight of his strict face, though, he wished he had stayed behind. The last time he had seen his face like that was when they lost their first battle. He decided to stay quiet and hope he wouldn't notice him there.  
  
However, Rock had noticed him the moment he rode up. No matter what ever happened, Taima was always there next to him, or backing him up. He smiled mentally. Taima was a good kid with a good heart.  
  
In a way, he saw himself in him when he was a child. Taima had the same spunk and ardor that he had at his age. He was aware that there were those who were unkind to him, and that all he could do was tell them to knock that crap off, but it did not stop it. He also knew that there were times that he wasn't there to stop them: he wasn't blind. He saw the hidden bruises on Taima's arms and legs. He would ask him then where he had gotten them, but Taima would always come up with an excuse, be it him falling out of a tree or tripping over a ditch in the ground. He wondered why he made up such stories when he could put a stop to it. All he needed were names and... He shook his head mentally. That wouldn't stop anything. He needed to be there at the time to stop them. Then would the beatings cease.  
  
He turned towards him and smiled slightly at him. He no longer held that proud smile with his shoulders up and back, imitating others' postures as they went into battle, but now he slightly slumped and frowned. Definitely something Rock didn't like seeing on Taima. When the latter finally realized that he was being watched, he looked up at Rock and smiled unsurely back.  
  
"Think we can convince Rikin that we're strong enough to join his big and powerful army?" It was known throughout the land that the reason that no one challenged him for his lands was because he had one of the best armies in the country if not anything else. Legend had it that Lord Rikin himself had been born out of the womb of a centaur. It was all nonsense, but he was still rumored to be extremely powerful.  
  
Taima grinned up at him. "Of course! He'll take one look at us and wham! -he'll be in awe." He grinned up at him again and grew excited once more.  
  
Rock chuckled lightly. If he wasn't careful, Taima's carefree attitude would rub off onto him. "I'm sure they will." From then Taima went on about everything that came to mind. For a little kid, he sure could talk a lot! But then again, he hardly had any experience with ten-year-olds, so he could be totally wrong.  
  
The sun rolled lazily across the sky as it blared its heat down upon the Kinship of Wolves, completely oblivious to them. They took a break at every other water source they found to water the horses. If your horses were exhausted, then how could you get anywhere? And they still had a ways to go.  
  
Rock leaned against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked out at the open road that lied ahead of him with narrow eyes. He didn't know what Rikin would say, but he was confident of his men's skill. They were tough fighters who never lost their fights. Since the beginning of the Kinship, there were maybe only a couple of times where they had lost. And then it was because of exhaustion and famine. He knew they would win Rikin's favor. How could they not? He wanted to see Bravico fall just as much as he. If he dismissed them, well, he would find a way. He always did. He always would. No one crossed him and lived to brag about it for long. He was young and weak at his parents' death. Now he was wise and strong, and would finally take revenge on him. And he would win. He would not take any other way. No matter what happened, he would see him suffer, and he would be over him, laughing just how he had done to him all those years ago. 


	3. Arrival

(In order of appearance:)  
  
Lord Rikin: Rikishi  
  
Lord Bravico: Jericho  
  
Donovan: Rock  
  
Mikhail: Mick Foley  
  
Justus: Jeff Hardy  
  
Matis: Matt Hardy  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isolation - Part 3  
  
Arrival  
  
By: Marie Allen  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A cough escaped his lips. It echoed off the walls, making it sound much louder than it actually was. For a split moment, he thought it was another who had made the sound, but the burning tightness that was in his throat told him the truth. It had been so long since he had been able to quench his thirst. He had even forgotten what it felt like to have a moist tongue.  
  
He weakly raised his hand, but only slightly, because the weight was too much for him to control. With his only eye, he looked at it. Like his mouth, his hand was also dry. It was so thin that it looked more like a skeleton than an actual hand. It was this hand that had once wheeled a sword against many foes. A spark lit inside him then. He remembered the sound of clashing metal as two long, silver blades collided. He remembered the sight of the sparks that would issue from it. He remembered the smell of those sparks, as they would fly high, high into the air. He closed his eye, desperately holding onto that sole piece of memory. But then it was gone, and he remembered no more.  
  
It had been a recent thing, him losing his right eye. It was just last week that they had popped it out. He could still feel the burning impression that razed him. It had been the Cat. The Cat had been there once again to rack its havoc on him, clawing him up. And he had done nothing this time. Perhaps that was why it had attacked?  
  
He opened his eye and looked around the darkness. He fixed his eye on the only source of light that came through the crack in the wall. They had been merciful this morning, and had let him down from his hanging cage from the middle of the room. Now he sat in the corner of the prison, his wrists bound to his ankles. This was designed to prevent him from escaping. Should he stand up, he would be forced over; his ankles were one with his wrists. But he sat now, and set his attention on the light. He once would have willed it to grow bigger, imagining it as if it were a lantern of one of his rescuers. It never happened.  
  
Drip, drip, drip.  
  
If anything, the light would get smaller with each thought that passed through him. It was his fear of the light completely disappearing that kept him from thinking about his rescuers anymore. After all, he couldn't even remember their faces. He couldn't even remember how he knew that he was getting rescued. Surely if he were, wouldn't he already be out by now?  
  
***  
  
It was four days later that they reached the threshold of Lord Rikin's castle. The weather had been in their favor; nothing short of encouraging sunshine smiled down at them as a soft, gentle breeze urged them forward. Surely nothing could spoil their mood.  
  
That was, if Rikin would grant them Rock's wish.  
  
He stopped his small army in the forest's edge that was close to three hundred yards. They were in the shade, and the horses were in a long need of a rest. Rock would go alone to the gate with two of his finest men.  
  
"But Master Rock! Am I not skilled with a sword? I can cut down any man before me!" Rock shook his head at the boy known as Taima with a firm look. He would have smiled at him if this were any other occasion.  
  
"No. I do not know how Rikin will react towards us. It's too dangerous for you."  
  
The boy snorted and kicked a pebble. "I've been in battles plenty before. How is this any different?"  
  
"Fighting one-on-one is much more difficult than fighting in groups."  
  
"Not that different... I don't see how if you have to fight, you have to fight."  
  
He put his hand on Taima's head, ruffling his hair slightly. "That is something you'll find out in time." Taima sighed and nodded. He didn't know why he argued with the man. He was his leader and friend; what he said went.  
  
Rock mounted his horse then accompanied with the two tall brothers, Justus and Matis. They both hand long, lightly brown hair that was secured behind their neck in a loose leather strip. Leather pants showed their high rank. Like every other man, they wore loose-fitting, off-white shirts that had a large neckline. It opened into a "V" shape down to the middle of their well- built chests. Strong legs hugged around the backs of their horses as they trotted down the hill, following their leader.  
  
Like the brothers, Rock was also vigorous with a soft bronze hue to his skin. His black, slightly wavy hair, when not held back by a leather strip, reached just past the middle of his back. It was rare when he let his hair down, however, as he found it mostly in his way. It was oft found tightly set at the base of his neck. Many women had told him that his hair looked like a waterfall in the sunlight. When caught in the light, it gave off blue highlights, extremely uncommon in this part of the world.  
  
The gate itself, like the castle, was dark and large, looming over the tree men. The same men who towered over men and the ones who now seemed like pygmies compared to this gate. The irons were the size of Rock's arms with sharp, large spikes on the bottom. It was clear that it was made to keep people or. Or keep people in.  
  
One of the guards that kept watch over his master's fortress called down to the three. "You there! What business have you?"  
  
Rock looked up and ignored the sun that shinned in his eyes. "I have word for Lord Rikin about Lord Bravico." He said nothing else.  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
"I am Donovan of the Kinship of Wolves."  
  
Whispers immediately issued between the guards. It was evident that his name had reached these men's ears before. One nodded and disappeared from view as the first spoke again. "We are announcing your name to Lord Rikin. If he permits, you shall enter." It was then that he joined his fellow guard and disappeared behind the top of the castle.  
  
Rock sat back on his saddle, leaning against an imaginary back. It would just be a matter of moments now before he would be able to convince the great Rikin.  
  
He turned towards his two comrades. They sat like two tanned statues: unmoving and unblinking. He smiled at them. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you continue to keep that face, you'll have it forever?"  
  
Justus and Matis shared a look at each other before grinning at their leader. "Yeah, but she also told us that we'd never get lucky and I definitely proved her wrong the other night," replied Justus with a pleased smirk.  
  
"Proved who wrong?" asked his brother. "Mom or the broad?"  
  
He was silent for a moment before shrugging. "Both."  
  
Rock smiled and shook his head. For a split moment he wondered what it was like to share a brotherly love, but it was quickly swapped when a tiny voice in the back of his head told him otherwise; that his pack were his brothers and family. They had been through much together, and he would sure as hell help them through anything. Just as they would for him.  
  
The first guard showed his face again over the top. "You have been granted entrance. Do you have weapons upon your selves?"  
  
They each took out a small dagger from their sheaths. The guard nodded, accepting it from them. Had they anything else, his men would have seized it from them and held it until their departure. This, he hoped, would be soon. He did not like the looks of them. He knew that they would cause trouble.  
  
The gate was lifted and the party of three made their way in with a walk. True he was anxious about talking to Rikin, but should he let these men know that, it would be a sign of weakness on their part.  
  
Like most castles, the courtyard was the first to be walked through. This was where a couple of handful of the lord's servants' and knights' family lived; with the exception of a few merchants. It was a small market place where the families would buy their supplies and food for throughout the year: they're private emporium, if you will. This was definitely a desired place to live if you were anybody. Who wouldn't want to live in a protected fortress with your needs practically handed to you on a plate?  
  
When they reached the castle's door, the trio dropped from their horses and handed the reins to three excited stable boys. They, like the guards, had heard the many great stories of Donovan and his Kinship of Wolves. They would quickly hurry to the stables, feed and water the horses probably, than run to all their friends, boasting how it was *they* who had served them. How envious everyone would be!  
  
They were ushered in the great doors before they were shut loudly behind. Should they be ambushed, they wouldn't be leaving through there. Following their guide through various hallways, twists, and turns, Justus and Matis looked around curiously at the surprisingly large collection of family portraits. It surprised them how large this family had become. They shared a smirk as the same thought passed over them. Who could marry anyone who looked like *that*?  
  
There was no talk between anyone during that walk. No guard asked if the rumors were true that Donovan and his men were the most feared merchants in the land, or if they were just mere thieves that had friends exaggerate into a game that would be known in the twentieth century as 'telephone' or 'operator.' On the other hand, Rock, Justus, nor Matis asked if Rikin was truly as great as they had been told. Should they have asked, each would be disappointed in their own way. But Rock would know soon enough just how 'great' and 'powerful' Rikin really was.  
  
They were brought to a large golden door that appeared to be real. However, with just a look, any noted merchant would be able to tell that it was nothing but gold paint. It was just one of many clues to Rikin's true self. The door opened with an ear-piercing creek that made everyone there cringe. That was everyone except for Rock. Just like his name, he seemed to be immobile and did not seem to notice the noise. But when he walked in, it was only then that he let surprise take over him.  
  
There, in the middle of the room, sat one of the largest, fattest men that Rock had ever seen. He was mustered on once large, huge pillows that he would later learn would be replaced daily. If not, by the end of the week, there would be no pillow at all, but a thin piece of cloth. Accompanied with him were four women of his harem, lounged on him as they fed him an array of various exotic foods from grapes to oranges to strawberries to figs to nuts. He didn't want to know how he managed to bed any of them since they were so incredibly small and he so incredibly not.  
  
When they walked in, Rikin grinned. If you could call it a grin. It was twisted and various teeth were missing, from previous battles Rock wondered? "Welcome!" he bellowed to them. "Please, please! Make yourself at home!" He ginned, waving his obese arm that jiggled, churning the brothers' breakfast from that morning and dinner from the night before.  
  
After a short while, the three sat on their own offered pillow before the large man, silent. "So!" Rikin grinned. He stuck out a pink tongue and licked an equally pink lip. It didn't look like a normal lip color. It was most likely one of the gorgeous harem girl's paint. "You are the famous and feared Donovan, are you not?"  
  
"I am." He was calm and relaxed, despite his guarded senses.  
  
Rikin grinned again. "Wonderful," he mumbled. "May we offer you something to drink? Or eat? You must be weary after your journey to our castle. May we offer you food and board?"  
  
"As most kind your offer is, my lord, I must decline on your offer. My men would be more comfortable in our natural surroundings. But that is not what we have come here. We have come to make a proposition."  
  
Rikin frowned. "Proposition? What kind of...proposition? We were not told of any propositions."  
  
"I have been told that you will soon be engaged in a battle with my sworn enemy, Bravico."  
  
Rikin nodded. "That is true."  
  
"Yes. The Kinship of Wolves has been fighting for years and has many expertises on the swiftest ways on defeating. Our skill surpasses any other merchant band. As I walked in, I failed to notice any signs of preparedness for your upcoming battle-"  
  
"Are you saying that our army isn't ready to fight?" he scowled.  
  
"I mean to make no insult upon you, my lord. I am just asking-"  
  
"-if you would like to join my fierce army in battle?" he finished with a huge, awkward grin.  
  
He nodded. "Yes." He was starting to get annoyed by this hefty man. If there was one thing he hated, it was being interrupted when he talked.  
  
"We have heard much about you, Donovan of the Wolves. We have heard of your men's lightning speed and able to communicate in battle with naught but a look between your men. However, us not being fools, we have prepared for you to check on how accurate those rumors are." He grinned again and rubbed his chin with a burly hand, stroking his beard. "We have much interest in you, Donovan of the Wolves..."  
  
If he wasn't mistaken, Rock didn't fail to notice the twinkle in Rikin's eyes that could only mean one thing. And that thing was definitely something he would not go near to. Not even for Bravico's destruction. A man's lust was something he would never relieve.  
  
He let out a large bellow laughter that echoed throughout the room. "We will start tomorrow, Donovan." Rikin waved a hand dismissing them. "We will see how worthy you are tomorrow at noon. We will being your testing then." With that said, the guards were instantly at their side. It took no convincing on Justus's and Matis's part. They, too, had seen Rikin's look and did not want to stick around long enough to see if their suspicions were correct.  
  
The door screeched behind them. It was just like Rikin: Large, fake, and loud. And something that wouldn't fall easily. Rikin may be perverted and sick, but he was still strong and fearsome to many.  
  
It had been true that he had seen no one preparing for this battle. Was he so confident about his men that he did not need to do so? Were his men as fierce and deadly as he thought? Or were they really nothing more than large men physically with women insides? He knew that he would probably be used, but if that was what it took to get his vengeance on Bravico, then so be it. At least he knew that he could get him. And now he was so close... He would win Rikin's favor and would become part of his army for this battle. Even if that cost him everything that he had worked for, for the past ten years.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
To be continued... 


	4. Meetings

In Order of Appearance:  
  
Lord Rikin: Rikishi  
  
Lord Bravico: Jericho  
  
Donovan: Rock  
  
Mikhail: Mick Foley  
  
Justus: Jeff Hardy  
  
Matis: Matt Hardy  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isolation - Part 4  
  
Meetings  
  
By: Marie Allen  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was alone now. The light had gone out long ago and he was left in complete darkness. He no longer knew if he was awake or asleep, for when he slept, he dreamt of the darkness. It was everywhere now. His hope of all chances of rescue was gone now. How could anyone rescue him when he was in the dark? How could anyone see, if he, who had long ago accustomed his eyes to the little light, could not? It was impossible. It was useless to continue imagining things that would never come true. "Keep your head out of the clouds. If you're light and floating, how can you accomplish anything on ground?" The words rang in his head from some unknown voice. It was true... His head was in the clouds and he was refusing to face reality.  
  
Drip, drip, drip.  
  
He no longer bowed his head to pray, but only bowed it in defeat. The fists he had kept through the years were now limp as his fingers fell with no life in them. Fingers that had once gripped the greatest sword ever created. No sounds of swords clashing echoed in his memory and no smells of sparks. He saw no familiar smiles and no familiar laughs. He didn't even remember his name, how could he remember smiles and laughs? He stopped then, frowning deeply. He desperately tried to search for any sort of memory; it was the last thing that would keep his sanity. Nothing came.  
  
He bowed his head again and let his body relax for the first time since his arrival there. His hands laid limp as did his arms and legs. His was broken. He had tried to fight the Cat and its creatures of destruction, but he had lost in the end. He was a shell now that only breathed in and out, and ate and drank in the occasional sense. He had no reason to go on anymore. He was completely and utterly shunned by the world.  
  
Drip, drip.  
  
Tears built up in the back of his eye and for the first time in his life he didn't care. He would let them fall. He didn't care anymore. Why should he? No one would see him except for the darkness. The darkness that had always been his cover. The darkness that had always been with him, even in the moments of light...  
  
***  
  
For the rest of that day Donovan stayed away from he group. Not that that was unusual; he usually kept away from the stories that were told in fire gatherings and dinners. He preferred to eat in the privacy of his tent that would also be pitched from the others. Although he enjoyed their company, and loved each in his own way, he much preferred his privacy. Each loved him in return, and it was because of this that they wondered why he would disappear so suddenly. They never held it against him, though. No one had been forced to fight by his side or hunt for his food. They were there as repayment, for many of them had been saved by him. Be it that they were runaway apprentices or miserable children, he was there to take them under his wing.  
  
Whatever his reason was for being alone, it was his business and not theirs. And who were they to pry? They knew so little about him. Should anyone have the nerve to ask him about his past, they wouldn't even know where to start. Not that they would probably get any answers.  
  
The stars were already out by the time anyone approached him. Naturally, Taima had volunteered. That night the group of men who had gone out hunting had found a buck. In short, they had a small feast that night. Taking a thigh especially reserved for Rock and a goblet of wine, Taima made his way towards his tent. He had a smile on his face as he imagined their victory at the battle against Bravico.  
  
As he neared the tent, he noticed two silhouettes illuminated through the walls. He immediately stopped, frowning, and looked at the shadows. He noticed Rock's, that was a dead give away. But the second he did not. It was obviously a man who was shorter than he by inches. He was too far away to hear their conversation, but by the stranger's body movement, and Rock's pacing, he guessed that there was a disagreement between them.  
  
Suddenly, the flap flew open and the man walked out. He wore a serious expression that made Taima slip behind a nearby tree. Unable to get a complete look at him, he was able to get a glimpse of the right side of his face. In place of his eye was a line as thick as his thumb. Another, thinner line crossed over it; obviously a war scar. Taima swallowed as he passed, unable to take his eyes off of it. A shiver ran down his spine when he passed by. There was something about the man that frightened him.  
  
Minutes after the stranger had gone, he stood there, watching where he had left, unable to tear his eyes away from the spot where he had disappeared from the camp. What had he and Rock been talking about? What had he been doing there?  
  
Shaking his head, he started back to Rock's tent. Whatever it was, Rock was probably not in a good mood, according to what he had seen through the tent walls.  
  
He cleared his throat when he reached door and tentatively called inside. "Master Rock?" When there was no answer, he spoke louder. "I've brought ya some food and drink. Fer yer supper, Master Rock..."  
  
There was a muffled, slow shuffle inside that sounded like papers being put together before the flap was pushed aside, inviting him in. He air inside was so tense, that it wouldn't surprise him if he could take the knife on the plate and cut through the air. He put the plate and goblet down next to his bedroll and stood up, whipping his hands on the back of his pants. He looked up then, expecting to see Rock in the shadows. It surprised him to see that not only was he standing in the full light of the candle, he was staring right at him.  
  
Taima looked with wide, unsure eyes. His leader's face was tight and drawn, and his jaw was clenched. His eyes shown with fire that Taima had never seen before. It was not the usual fire that lit up before a battle, but more of an upset and infuriated fire. He didn't say anything, but continued to look up at him.  
  
"Bravico will be here no later than dusk tomorrow. We start early in th' morn." His voice was in a low, deep octave that seemed wrong to the usual, bright tenor voice. Yet another change Taima found disturbing.  
  
He looked up in shock. "But, how will th' men know? How can we be ready for them by dusk? An' Lor' Rikin's army, what of they?"  
  
He shook his head. His face softened slightly, as if Taima's questions soothed his tense posture. "Don't worry. They'll be ready." Taima nodded. Something in Rock's voice was not only a promise but also a definite. They would be ready.  
  
He slipped out of his tent after answering question about the men's behavior and such. He didn't bother joining the group again. If they were to start tomorrow, he knew that he would need as much rest as he could get.  
  
He instantly fell asleep, dreaming of a place just sort of paradise. There were lush plants surrounded around a lake of clear blue. He and many others played in the water and sunbathed to keep warm. In the near distance, a large castle was the place that he called home. Servants stood in various posts with platters of goblets. A scandalously dressed woman started towards his dream self with a suggestive grin. She opened her red lips and spoke, but her voice was silky or exotic. It was deep and unusual. As he looked at her in complete disbelief, she opened her mouth again and let out a deep, bellowed howl.  
  
Taima snapped open his eyes and sat straight up on his bedroll. Sweat drenched his brow as he frantically looked around seeing red. He jumped from the ground and opened the tent flap. No one else lay on their bedroll because they were up and frantically running around. Fire licked up the trees towards the still dark sky above as shouts filled the air.  
  
He quickly ran out of the tent, grabbing his knife and a bucket to help put out the water. How did this happen? He hurried to a barrel they had gotten from the market just yesterday to fill his small bucket. Surely they couldn't be under attack!  
  
He spun on his heel and started towards a nearby bush. Action now, thoughts later. He had to hurry! As he dumped the bucket's contents on the quickly growing flames, something caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. When it moved, his usually small eyes widened in shock and stumbled back, a high-pitched, startled scream escaping him. 


	5. I'll Help Thee...

In Order of Appearance:  
  
Lord Rikin: Rikishi  
  
Lord Bravico: Jericho  
  
Donovan: Rock  
  
Mikhail: Mick Foley  
  
Justus: Jeff Hardy  
  
Matis: Matt Hardy  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Isolation - Part 5  
  
I'll Help Thee...  
  
By: Marie Allen  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It had been quiet for too long. Why hadn't anyone to feed him? Where were they? No matter. He didn't care about living any longer anyway. Maybe they had forgotten about him? But that would be too merciful... He sighed mentally, for he was too weak to take any breaths larger than the ones required.  
  
Drip, drip, drip.  
  
Just when he was about to completely close his eyes, he heard a scurrying in the walls. He opened them just to amuse himself, not really in curiosity, looking towards the wall in front of him. The skitters and whispers were not in a language he recognized. The tongue was as foreign to him as the noises that were made. They were much too big for a rat, and too small for a human. No other living thing ever came to this place. Or if they did, they would never walk out again. (At first it had disgusted him to hear the cries of agony that came from the tight, strangled voices of the dogs. But as time passed, he began to recognize it as more as a known appearance rather than a stomach-churning horror).  
  
As the whispers and skittering grew, the more strength he seemed to receive. He was soon able to blink without pain. A light in the same location where his old friend had once dwelled, was faint and distant.  
  
But as they came closer, he did not move. Although he had more strength now then he could remember he stayed immobile to hanging position. Then the noise stopped and there was silence. Suddenly he heard something. The whisper inside his head did not make him jump in surprise however, nor did the sudden breeze that passed through his thigh-length hair.  
  
Who are you?  
  
We are nothing.  
  
Drip, drip, drip.  
  
What do you want?  
  
You. Your powers.  
  
I have no powers. He bowed his head but did not close his eyes. I am nothing.  
  
He could sense rather then see the smile. If he were younger, his blood would have frozen in his veins. But that was the old him and this was him now.  
  
Do you believe that?  
  
He was silent a moment as if considering the question. His eyes glazed over in thought. Was he right?  
  
Drip, drip, drip.  
  
He looked up. The light that slowly been growing pulsed in the small hole. It pulsed in the same rhythm as his own heart, as if it were alive rather then a strobe of brightness. Thoughts collided with one another, clashing between what was right and what was wrong. He looked down slightly for only a moment. He looked back up at the light as his answer was told.  
  
Like a starburst, the light exploded around the room. He tightly clenched his eyes shut as it enveloped him like mother's arms, embracing him tightly.  
  
***  
  
He spun on his heel and started towards a nearby bush. Action now, thoughts later. He had to hurry! As he dumped the bucket's contents on the quickly growing flames, something caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. When it moved, his usually small eyes widened in shock and stumbled back, a high-pitched, startled scream escaping him.  
  
The man closet to him, Justus, was at his side instantly. His naked chest fell in uneven gasps for air due to his frantic running. "What's wrong with ya?"  
  
Taima could only point. Justus turned. At first he stared in shock, for the hooded man before him held torch of fire. His back was to him, yet it was obviously he who had started the fire; he was still feeding it and urging it on.  
  
Infuriated, Justus grabbed the man's shoulders and pulled the weak man towards himself. A squeak of surprise escaped the smaller man who-Justus was pleased to note-was easy to lift. "Tell Master Rock we've got us a spy," he smirked. Taima scrambled off to send word as quickly as his still growing legs would let him. Justus was holding the man in tight fists, yet he continued to fight against his capture.  
  
He continued to smirk down at him. It amused him, along with other small things, to see him struggling. The smaller version of his brother, he had always been the one to be picked on. It thrilled him to finally be the one larger.  
  
Taima had quickly fetched their leader and led him back to where Justus had moved him. Now that he had been caught, the flames were beginning to stay under control. Granted that they were still grazed over the bushes and high into the trees, there was not extra help. His face firm with fury, Rock grabbed the baggage from the now slightly disappointed Justus. He had yet to have his fun... "Ya piece of shit," he spat, banging the still covered spy against the nearest tree.  
  
"Who sent ya?" The smaller man only panted from the sudden beating and his grip loosened against the hands that held his neck. Rock whacked him against the trunk again. "Answer me!" Taima and Justus grinned at each other. Finally! Some action.  
  
"I s-sent myself," he finally replied and gasped for air. He frowned deeper and stared at him a moment. Lifting his hand slightly, he yanked hold of the hood and jerked it back. Justus and Taima gasped. Rock's eyes narrowed in displeasure when he realized that the man was not a man at all, but a woman. A beautiful woman at that. Her long, wavy red hair was something that Donovan had rarely seen. Her deep emerald eyes flashed in anger at him, bringing out the shape of her face. Due to the sharp widow's peak, it was in the form of an oval heart. Freckles dotted over high cheekbones and the bridge of a dainty nose. If they weren't pulled back in a sneer, her lips would be full with a slightly pouted bottom one. Yes, he had seen these rare demon temptresses before.  
  
He took a step back, letting her go. She instantly fell to her knees and sputtered for air. Justus and Taima also took a step back, but they because of their surprise. They shared a knowing look and Justus nodded in their shared message. He quickly left just as the redhead jumped to her feet. Her eyes still ablaze with fury and humiliation, she threw herself to the man who had shown her identity.  
  
Amused, Rock smirked slightly and side stepped her; easily dodging her. But she had anticipated he would do that. It was in the way he stood. Did he think her a common house girl? Ha! Without wasting a moment, she tightened her and punched at his jaw with all her might, releasing only a small bit of her anger. Needless to say he was surprised! Unusually tall for a woman, she had readily hit him. He looked at her without expression and did not touch his face.  
  
Taima's protectiveness instantly hit and he grabbed the hilt of his knife, ready to attack. With another amused smirk, Rock put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "No. She is not worth it."  
  
Seized with even more fury, she made a chance to hit him again. This time, he was prepared. He grabbed her wrist and she cursed at him. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? You have no need in this place tonight." He eyed Taima, sharing the joke. "Unless one of the men sneaked her in?" Taima shared a grin with him as the woman struggled and kicked once more.  
  
"I am not some common strumpet, you wretched creature!"  
  
He snapped his head to her, surprised at her speech. It sounded too proper for a woman in her 'profession.' Unless he had been mistaken? His eyes narrowed again. "Then what are you doing, sending our camp to the flames? Do you know what we do to wenches who don't know their place?" Truth be told, they didn't do anything to them. They had never been insolent towards the women folk before, and he had taught his men to behave properly when around them, no matter what type of woman that were in their presence.  
  
She continued to glare at him, her eyes shooting green hate daggers into him. "I came to destroy you and your animals." He barked out a laugh but quickly covered it with a smirk. After a few moments of silence, the on- lookers began to question if he had done it at all.  
  
"'To destroy' us?" he grinned. She amused him, that was obvious, and he hadn't had a mouse to play with for some time. "What makes you think you can?"  
  
She was baffled. Hadn't she just tried to do just that with the fire? "But..."  
  
"Oh!" he interrupted with the same smirk upon his lips. "You mean that this," he waved his hand then, indicating the now smoking camp, "was how you planned on doing it? By forcing us out with fire? My dear, we are fire. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with fire?"  
  
As he talked her face grew red with embarrassment and anger. How dare he treat her like this in front of all these degraded idiots! Not that she cared, of course. She didn't care what they thought because she knew that she was above them. She'd never stick as low as them. But at the mention of her mother, she paled immensely. The all too familiar of sickness in the pit of her stomach immediately arose. All the thoughts that she had been prepared to lash out at him vanished and she was left with the memories of the women who had raised her.  
  
She glared deeper at him after here moment of remembrance. "How dare you talk about things you don't know."  
  
He didn't show the surprise at her voice. It was low and deep and made him think of vipers striking out. He mentally shook his head to get rid of the image. "Perhaps not." He turned to Justus and nodded at him. With the rope ready in his hands, he went to her and began to tie her wrists together.  
  
Fear took hold on her. "What are you doing?" she shrieked out in surprise.  
  
"You've already trashed our camp once. We can't have you do it again." His massive arms folded across his chest as his eyes twinkled down at her. "You will stay here tonight before we take you back to the castle. That is where you're from, are you not?" He smirked when she didn't respond. "As I thought. Pleasant dreams and do be careful tonight. There are more then bugs that bite."  
  
As she was dragged to a tent, she continued to curse at him. The men laughed and joked as they turned back to their own tents. There was nothing left they could do now. The fire was left to the ashes. A soft breeze from deep within the forest picked up the remains of the items that had been burnt and carried it towards a designated hilltop. The stench of fire also rode on this wave of air, sending shivers of delight down the man. His hair was tied back in a tight ponytail and he wore nothing more then tight leather pants. His eyes were closed now, for he had seen everything down below. A smile took his crooked lips as he captured the ashes in his hands. He opened his eyes as he brought the ashes to his bent nose. To any normal person, his eyes would be considered hypnotizing. It wasn't often that a man with one blue eye and one gold was seen. But to any other who had been under this man's control would shudder in horror at the last memory of those eyes before they were treated. That was only if any of his patients were still alive...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
To Be Continued... 


End file.
